Out with the old
by BritishAlien
Summary: The 11th Doctor has just regenerated. How will the new 12th Doctor take to his new form and how will Clara react? One shot. Hope you enjoy.


The light had escaped and with it, heralded the dawn of a new life and a new Doctor. The new Doctor fell against the console, clutching at the solid edges with his hands so as not to drop to the floor. He was determined not to fall. Mainly because he knew he'd never get back up again if he did. The fire in his belly raged through every nerve, charging every movement and causing spasms that caught him out at every turn. His senses felt dulled like there were self-induced censors on what he could register and yet, at the same time, every experience felt heightened. Every movement felt like his limbs was weighing him down and pulling him to the TARDIS floor. All of his effort was being put into making the most rudimentary of actions possible. Even breathing felt heavy and forced, like this body was not yet accustomed to the rhythms of what had become second nature to every species in the known universe. All, of course, were symptoms of the process he had just been dragged through, but even after eleven of these journeys, he still wasn't used to it. A necessary evil, which hardly ever felt worth it at first, but soon he would be able to feel his new life coursing through every vein and he could live again. Well, that was the idea, at least.

Like a photograph flashing into sight, the new Doctor remembered that he hadn't been alone in the console room when he died. His past life had not fallen into eternal sleep without a companion nearby to hold his hand. Memory was a curious thing. It was always there, but hardly ever seen. Only in brief moments when nothing else cares to wander across the mind or when something is called forth when in dire need. Just as it was always there when needed, so was the woman who he shared the room with. A girl, no, wait…THE girl had been there. He had no idea how she'd react to him changing. She knew about regeneration and the creation of new whilst discarding the old, but how would she react to witnessing it? How would she react to this new face, which he didn't even know about yet? He needed to confront her reaction sooner rather than later. It was for the best.

As a small shock ran along his spine, the new Doctor looked up and slowly turned his head to look at the impossible girl. On the other side of the room, Clara stood leaning against the handrail that guarded the TARDIS' occupants from falling to the floor below the console. What did he say to someone who just watched him die and come back with a different face? What do you say? He hated this bit. He could never find the right words. Their eyes connected. With her, he could see a mixture of fear and intrigue. Nothing too unexpected, but he was hoping that they would fade to recognition if he played his cards right. They had kept eye contact for far too long for it to be comfortable and so the Doctor decided to jump in the deep end.

'Hi...' He blurted out at long last.

'Hello.' Clara replied, her voice wobbling slightly. Her eyes widened as his voice left him. He needed to reassure her that he was still the Doctor. He tried to flash a winning smiling. The muscles around his jaw tightened as his face, his new face, smiled for the first time. It was an odd sensation. Everything was so familiar and yet felt like it was being done afresh. His smile, however, faltered, when a stabbing pain attacked his stomach with the full support of every other major organ he could think to remember. All seemed to be working against him, but he knew it was the body settling into its new form, not rebelling, or at least he hoped not. He crumpled to the floor, accepting his fate to have to climb his little Everest in regaining his footing, but that wasn't worth thinking about. That could wait.

He settled on the floor, getting himself comfortable, holding his stomach in preparation for another unexpected wave of pain. He saw how Clara had slipped down onto her knees and now sat at the same level as him. He had to keep talking.

'You alright?' He murmured, trying to keep the conversation light, but as his body was settling, he started to pick up more and more about the new him. There was something different about his voice. Something uncanny that seemed to linger on the edge of memory.

'Yeah. You?'

'Been better.' He scoffed. One hand rose and gripped his neck. He knew that accent. Good Rassilon! He had a Scottish accent! One that he had spoken with many years and lifetimes before. How odd that it should be so similar. He rather liked it. It had made him sound cool and collected when underneath he was far from being so. He approved. Smiling through the shock. Maybe the smile wasn't so strange after all. Maybe this man liked to smile. Never a bad thing.

Without noticing, Clara had moved to sit by his side. Her short legs stretched out alongside his own. He was still tall. His old trousers, although he was sitting down, had risen an inch or two, revealing a pair of odd socks that he always wore. Throughout every regeneration, odd socks had remained a love of his. Who had time to find matching socks anyway?

The new Doctor pushed himself off the floor a little so that he wasn't slouching. Almost like he was reporting for duty. In a way he was. He was reporting to Clara as she checked out the new him. He didn't dare to make eye contact again. Not just yet. She was so close. Her hand lingered closer to his as time passed and she was able to take in more of the new him. So instead, he kept his eyes looking forward and concentrated on controlling the spasms that still teased his body.

Unexpectedly, he felt her move closer to him and place her head on the right side of his chest. He felt his hearts beat quicken as he became used to touch again. She kept her head on his chest and brought up a single hand to test the other side and feel the beat of his other heart. At least she was saving him a job, he still had two hearts. Always a bonus.

After the inspection, she pulled away, apparently satisfied only to lean into him and place her arms around his waist and her head on his right shoulder; her eyes shut. An attempted hug of comfort. The Doctor sat still. A little more relaxed than he had been when standing to attention, but unable to completely let his guard slip.

Could he hug her back? Should he? He had no idea what he looked like. He had no idea of what age the body was and couldn't ascertain what would be acceptable. Clara could act with him as she wished, she, no doubt, still saw him as the young man with shadows that only occasionally revealed his true age. He had no idea what kind of man he was yet or how he wanted to act with Clara. He was still in the tipping point between personalities. Still clinging to the old, whilst chipping a new façade for the new. He knew he felt slightly awkward around her, but he supposed it was down to his uncertainties about the new him. He didn't want to feel awkward around Clara, not after everything they had been through and how close they had been before his change. However, there was something at the back of his mind telling him that they would not be able to keep that kind of relationship going. He wasn't that kind of man anymore. She shifted slightly, making herself comfortable against his shoulder, but the Doctor read the action as an attempt to pull away. He had to act soon or she'd pull away completely. He slowly moved his right arm from its position, keeping him sat upright and stretched it over Clara's shoulders. Every movement had to be judged and was ascertained by Clara's reaction which he watched religiously. He didn't want to wake her.

As she felt his arm wrap around her shoulder, she held onto his waist tighter and pulled herself in. The Doctor had his arm around her shoulder and tilted his neck so that his head rested on hers. It was quiet and understated, but comfortable. He knew now that he wouldn't be as close to Clara as his predecessor, but he could still be there for her should she need a friend. He would always want to be there for her, just as she always had been for him. He was just repaying the debt.

'Did it hurt?' She whispered. Her voice was light, like raindrops falling on a windowsill. He nodded. Looking down to see whether her eyes had opened. They hadn't. She was talking about the change. He didn't really know how to answer or whether to do so. He pulled away slightly, lifting his head and staring at the wall in front of him. Clara too lifted her head from his chest, but only to look up to his face as he looked into the distance for an answer to her question.

'It's funny. I…I can't really remember.' How could he forget? It had just happened and he was aching all over but he couldn't remember. It's like fighting the Silence, you know they're there because of the marks left behind but you can't remember them. 'I mean, there was…pain. Yes. It…it…_did_…hurt.' His breathing felt more laboured as he found himself falling into his own memories. Coming out of the process of regeneration knowing that you're still the person you were before, you still have the burden of the man before you and all the things he did in honour of the name you now have to carry. He had to live up to everything that led to his past self's death to justify him existing. 'It is still painful. But I came to the conclusion a long time ago, that the brain hides all the tragic things that happen to one so far at the back of the mind, behind other harrowing memories, that it is hardly worth trying to unearth them.' He looked back to Clara's eyes which were now staring deeply into his own. There was a touch of pity in that look, but she understood. Why drag up painful memories when new brighter ones can be created a whole lot easier?

'Alright, Granddad.' Clara said, trying to lighten the tone.

'Granddad?' He spat. 'It's not that bad is it?'

'Not that bad? You don't know what you look like?' Clara inquired, somewhat amazed.

'Haven't seen a mirror yet.' And at that, Clara pulled away from him completely and ran out of the console room. The Doctor watched as she ran out of sight and left him alone in the console room for the first time. The Doctor dragged himself up off the floor, his body moaning at almost every movement. He reached a steady standing position and stood a step away from the console. He placed his hands on his lapels and looked up in amazement at the TARDIS' ceiling. He watched as the rotor shot up and down the central column like a firework only for it to be dragged back down to the ground. It was beautiful. He hardly ever had the opportunity to marvel at the machine he stol…borrowed all those years ago. She was truly wondrous. How lucky he had been for her to want to borrow a Time Lord too.

He heard footsteps approaching the console room and turned his head just as Clara walked in carrying a mirror, about the size of a piece of A4 paper, which usually stood in the nearest bathroom to the control centre. The face was turned towards her as she walked around the console to stand in front of him. He followed her every movement and watched as her smiling face settled on him.

'Ready?' This was it. The first time he'd see his new self. Always a time of worry and fascination. The Doctor closed his eyes and nodded, ready to confront his new face. 'Open your eyes.' The Doctor did so and saw in the mirror a man he could not associate with and yet every movement was his own. His eyebrows rose as he saw the older, more distinguished face reflected in the mirror before him. He pulled the mirror from Clara's grip and began to examine his face. The first thing he noticed was his hair. Tight silver curls had replaced the flop of brown hair that he had commonly woken up with over the past few changes. If anything he was glad for the change. Still wasn't ginger though. One day! Anyway, he liked how the hair framed the new face. Wasn't too bold, but wasn't understated either. Just right.

With his free hand, he pulled at the skin and tweaked his nose. He stared at his chin, or more like his absence of chin after his last self, and traced his fingers along the new jaw line. He looked into his new eyes. They were blue. He hadn't had blue eyes for a while. He hated feeling like every thing was like a new cosmetic to be scrutinised and checked, but something would always cheer him up if he didn't feel great. His eyes especially fascinated him. They would get to look at the universe with a fresh perspective. Sure, he would meet some old foes or friends, but he would be able to look on them with these new eyes and see everything again for the first time. An experience he delighted in.

He tilted the mirror so that it cast an extended image of his whole body. He had been right. He was taller. His old clothes appeared to be too small for him and in need of a good ironing session anyway. He'd have to say goodbye to them soon enough. The last vestiges of his past self clinging on to the new. He would discard them in the search for his new outfit. Then a few weeks later, he would go back to the wardrobe room and put them away properly, with as much respect as he could muster for the man who had died in those clothes. They would be taken care of.

He moved the mirror once more to examine his face and glanced at the lines around his face. Yes, the body was older and age lines dotted the once fresh face, but what really caught his attention were the laughter lines. The body had laughter lines which seemed to carve out his smile. He always found it strange how the body could have such marks when the man he had become hadn't laughed yet. Again, a new experience for him to look forward to.

'Satisfied?' Clara said, pulling the mirror from his grasp and placing it on the surface of the console. The new Doctor nodded.

'I think it's workable.' The new Doctor smirked. He liked the look of his new self. It would take a bit of getting used to considering his last few bodies had been comparatively young, especially his past self, but it would be fine. Just as it always was. He ran his hand through his new silver curls trying to calm them after seeing what the force of regeneration had done to his hair. 'What do you think?' He said, turning to Clara, now fully aware of the parameters he could conduct himself in.

'What do I think?' Clara interposed. The Doctor nodded. He wanted her opinion more than anything else at that moment. She had known him for so long and had known most of his bodies, how would this one stand the test? 'I think you're the Doctor.' She beamed and stood on her tip toes to kiss his cheek. She pulled away, picked up the mirror and left the room, ready to take the object back to where it came. The Doctor smiled and knew that everything would be ok. The TARDIS rumbled in accordance with Clara's sentiments. He had been accepted for who he was and it lifted his hearts more than he could have ever imagined. He was ready to get out into the universe and see what was beyond his front door. It was time to start afresh and embark upon a bright, shining new story which only he could write. Next stop everywhere!

'Thank you, old girl. Now, where to next?'


End file.
